Punk Glasses and the Split Infinitive
by ElleThom
Summary: My entrance for the Kink Meme Challenge from livjournal


The smell of stale coffee permeated the room, though the two people slung on either side of the ancient desk seemed to neither notice, nor care. In fact, both the man and the woman continued to draw long pulls from their respective coffee cups.

Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop were no strangers to paperwork, and bad coffee seemed to be its natural offspring. Neither of the pair seemed too concerned about the taste of the murky liquid, rather unaffected by staleness. The piles of paperwork were strewn about the desk as the intrepid pair rifled through in the hopes of saving the world one pen stroke at a time.

Olivia threw herself back into her chair and heaved a frustrated sigh as she reached into the drawer of her desk to retrieve her reading glasses.

"Don't do that." The voice across the desk implored.

"Ruining the fantasy?" she tossed from the 586df form she hunched over, pen raised in glorious affirmation of completion.

Peter glanced at her in time to see her raise her eyes to meet his. "No," he admitted with a visible shudder. "I think you are creating a few." He smiled as a noticeable crimson began to dance across his features.

The blonde FBI agent smiled at this small admission. "I kinda figured you were a geek in school." She admitted.

Peter shook his head as he spoke. "You have no idea…" he ended with a face palm and a sigh that heralded a story that would break the monotony of the night.

"Do tell." Olivia rose and refilled both of their mugs with the stale offerings that squirted forth from the ancient coffee maker in the office. Walter preferred the stuff he made himself, but no one else would drink it, fearing what else Walter may add to the caffeine brew.

"The year is 1990," Peter began with a flourish, throwing the pen to the desk and flinging his body back against the swivel chair. His hands reached back to his neck and a serious look stretched his face, but did not extinguish the twinkle in his aqua eyes. a young boy sheltered form most things in the world, spending much too much time in his room, has the idea to sneak out of the house for the first time."

"You rebel!" Olivia grinned, her chin resting firmly in her hand, rapt attention to the man with the glint in his eye.

"Ah Ah Ah," Peter admonished her interruption, "You are making assumptions that an overweight thirteen year old with bad acne and a penchant for punky, Elvis Costello, horn rimmed glasses would be going out as a means of exerting his individuality."

Olivia, no stranger to rebelliousness, especially as a teen quirked her head at this admission, a wince playing with her generous mouth, "You wore glasses?" she asked/

"Wear." Peter corrected pointing to his eyes. "And I prefer my glasses of the invisible sort now thank you very much."

Olivia pursed her lips in understanding.

"So, I got the idea that I had to go to the Star Trek Convention down on Route 56 at the Amphitheatre. Problem was my father was at work and my mother, well she didn't like crowds." A shadow briefly formed at Peter's brow with the memory of his mother. He shook it off with a slight jostle and went on. "So I had the idea to wait until my mother went to her bridge game that Friday night. "

Olivia nodded in understanding and as a means to keep him talking.

Peter jumped up suddenly and began to search the office for something. "the babysitter my parents used was not the—"

"wait, you had a sitter, at thirteen?" Olivia smiled, "You must have been a handful."

"My parents were cautious, and if you are going to keep interrupting me…"

Olivia made a silent hand wave as if to say please continue.

"All right then. So the babysitter was definitely not worth the three bucks an hour my parents paid her. She usually brought her boyfriend after my mother left. The night in question I am pretty sure the two of them were losing their virginity in my parents bed."

"Awkward." Olivia offered, but quieted when Peter offered the look of impatience again. She silently wondered if Peter realized how alike he was to Walter. She decided she would not be the one to tell him this.

"So I figured it would be a good idea to sneak out through the window of my bedroom. There was this tree that I used to climb all the time, and I figured if I could climb it, then I could easily use it to make my escape. " He looked to Olivia waiting for the question he felt niggling at her, but she remained silent and intent at his words.

"There I am with my little Star Trek the Next Generation backpack full of my Christmas money, a flashlight and a lunch. I was wearing my Commander William Riker uniform and—"

"Really? Riker? The uniform?" Olivia looked honestly confused.

Peter nodded, "yeah my parents were cautious and indulgent." He smiled.

"No," Olivia shook her head, "I mean I had you pegged as a Picard fan, or Data. You know, brainy"

For a second Peter looked stricken before he spoke again. "Oh no, brainy I had in spade. I lived brainy every day, as evidenced by the incessant swirlies and wedgies at my school. " He chuckled mirthlessly. "No, what I didn't have was Riker's way with ladies. He was smooth, there wasn't a buxom alien that was immune to his charms."

Olivia nodded in understanding as she waited for Peter to finish.

"I crawled out of my window, got my foot onto the first branch. No problem,, I thought WOW this is too easy. So I reach my other foot out onto the branch, and that's when it happened. Somehow I twisted and fell from the branch, In my fear of dying from a two story fall, I grabbed onto the nearest thing I could, the trellis that ran long the house. Anyway, there I am, hanging upside down by my now ripped uniform pants; my glasses fell from my face and landed with a crack. I knew if I stayed that way I was going to get caught. If I let go of the trellis, the branch was going to snap from my weight, I would fall and break an arm at least. I would get caught. "

At this point, Olivia is on the edge of the ancient desk chair, "Si, what happened?"

Peter grinned and sat back down in his chair. "Without my glasses, I don't see so well. I think the medical term is extreme MacGooism" he smiled. "I tried to grab the trellis with my other hand, and If I had my glasses I would have been able to better gauge the distance. But I missed, I fell. Never made it to the Convention. Jonathon Frakes was there that night too." He finished wistfully.

So you didn't get caught?" Olivia asked in disbelief.

"Oh, no the trip to the hospital and the arm cast was a dead giveaway. I have never seen my mother so freaked out. Two things happened after that night. Kathy Geresen never sat for me again, and Walter had the tree removed from in front of the house."

"Aww, so you never got to meet Jonathon Frakes then?" Olivia asked in sincere pity.

"Nope/" Peter shook his head "So, Agent Dunham, were you a geek? I bet you were."

Olivia smiled. "Yeah, no I never got into Star Trek, sorry. It wasn't my thing."

Peter glared at her. "Oh? Oh, Star Wars then, I knew it. It's a shame." He shook his head.

"Oh Star Wars was good, but I never really got into it too much either. I mean I loved the movies, but they were just movies, not a lifestyle or anything.' She went back to her paperwork, pushing her glasses up on her knows as she continued saving the world one pen stroke at a time.

"Yeah," Peter mumbled. He should have known, girls like Olivia didn't waste time on silly things like Sci fi. He admonished himself for sharing his embarrassing story with her. "I bet you were one of those girls who hung out at the mall" he accused from his paperwork.

"Not really." She offered dismissively.

They went back to the task of freeing the world of paperwork, sipping stale coffee in near silence for the rest of the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**One Week Later**

Walter needed the files that Olivia had mistakenly taken home the night before. They were trying to figure out the exact composition of a mysterious pink gel that appeared to move of its own volition. There were bets on sentience, but there were prayers against it as well.

Peter knocked on the door of Olivia's apartment; he had called her from the lab to warn her of his arrival.

He was ready to knock again when the door flew open.

Olivia stood before him in a large brown floppy hat, a giant scarf wrapped around her neck enough times to cause concern for its length.

"Jelly Baby?" she asked holding out a white bag to the suddenly dumbstruck man.

"Ohh, I shoulda known." He shook his head, grabbing a couple of candies offered him. "Chicks dig Time Lords." He smirked.


End file.
